


Some Sappy Shit, by Varric Tethras

by PerfidiousFate



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Books, F/M, Purple Hawke, Skyhold, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 08:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5998795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfidiousFate/pseuds/PerfidiousFate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke wants to know where her royalties are.  Varric is unhelpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Sappy Shit, by Varric Tethras

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xiuxi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiuxi/gifts).



> Hawke and Varric have the best relationship. I, too, was forever sad that you can't romance Varric - they need to have awesome adventures together forever. I had fun writing this short little story! I really hope you enjoy it <333 Hope you have a wonderful exchange!

“Varric,” Hawke had said one day, out of the blue, “Shouldn’t _I_ get a portion of the royalties? You _did_ base this book on my life.”

Varric looked over at her. She was lounging on his bed in Skyhold in that effortlessly sexy way she had, traitorously reading a book that was not by him. She’d apparently tried to use his royalties check as a bookmark before realizing that she held the latest earnings of _Tales of the Champion_.

“Hawke,” he said, laying down his pen so that he could give her his full attention, “I was raised in the Merchants’ Guild. For me, giving people their fair share isn’t really a _thing_.”

Hawke rolled her eyes at him. She did that a lot, he’d noticed. Not even Dorian rolled his eyes as often as she did, and he rolled his eyes at everything. 

“Besides,” Varric said, “You really don’t need the money, Lady Amell.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Hawke said. “You know me and my principles. I _do_ have some that don’t involve killing people, believe it or not.”

She sat up a little. The sunlight that shone through the window illuminated her hair; it looked like a halo. She looked ridiculously wonderful, ethereal and beautiful and strange and Hawke-like all at once. Varric couldn’t make that shit up if he’d tried, couldn’t find the words. Even the readers of _Swords and Shields_ , the sappiest, glurgiest thing he’d ever written, would scoff at the gooiness Varric felt at the sight of her. Even _Cassandra_ would. This was why he was never, ever telling her about him and Hawke. Ever.

“It is my life, after all,” Hawke said, softer this time. “My endless parade of tragic losses and fuck-ups used for the entertainment of the masses. I might as well get a dinner out of it.”

And she had a point. Varric lived through most of it with her, all those tragedies, the little ones and the big ones. Anders and Leandra, Feynriel, Orsino and Meredith, Bartrand and Varania...Those were some things that could mess you up good, and Hawke had _started_ her adventure with the loss of her hometown and the death of her brother. 

But Hawke wasn’t a fuck up. She was a hero, through and through. She’d spent seven years whipping Kirkwall into shape, and then years afterwards trying to rebuild it, and now she was about to help the Inquisitor save the world. She was a legend. 

And people needed legends. Even the ones Varric doled out, full of half-lies and exaggerations. People needed to see that there was someone like Hawke out there fighting for them. People needed _stories_ , because the world was a terrifying, lonely place where the sky rips apart and your friends turn to abominations. And that’s where Varric came in. And that’s where Hawke came in.

Varric thought about telling Hawke all that, but, well - she probably knew it anyway. She was smart like that. So instead, he grinned at her.

“I’ll buy you dinner sometime, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Besides, you’ve already been paid back and then some. Where do you think the money that takes care of _this_ comes from?” He ran a hand down his chest, smoothing his chest hair down.

Hawke gasped, delighted. “I _knew_ that wasn’t natural. I’ve got you now, Varric Tethras.” Her somber mood of a moment ago fled like it had never darkened their room.

Varric winked at her, and she smiled. He loved seeing her smile - she hadn’t done it enough since the Chantry exploded. So, because of that smile, he got up and joined her on the bed, and they made some more wondrous, beautiful, cheesy as hell memories together - a story just for the two of them. 

Varric probably wouldn’t even embellish it later. Not too much, anyway.


End file.
